Q: Your
memoirs deal with very serious topics, including religion and cancer, but your
writing also is very funny (as are the titles of both your books). How do you
balance the humor with the serious subjects you're writing about?

A: Ah. If we
can’t use a sense of humor for serious subjects, then it’s not good for much,
is it? Besides, a lively sense of humor chips away at self-importance. I know
plenty of people who take themselves seriously all the time, but Lord, why
would anybody want to? Traditionally, religion has been funny only to the
non-religious; cancer to the cancerous. Time to mix it up!

Q: How difficult was it to write about such personal topics, and how did your
family feel about being included in your books?

A: I suppose
that some authors are writing about personal topics in order to be heard or
seen—that is, in order to be known and affirmed. That would be hard because it
would produce paltry results. Where would it lead, except maybe to more of the
insecurity that insisted on affirmation in the first place? Remember, I’m an
egghead literature professor.I don’t
use personal material in order to be known. I use it to invite a conversation
larger than self.

On the whole
my family has been gorgeously supportive. Thank God my parents have a great
sense of humor.My husband, a former
hoodlum, doesn’t read much. But he’s perfectly cordial to people who do.“If you think folks wanna hear about me
sellin weed outa my parents’ garage, knock yourself out, Honey.”

Q: You write that there are "several theological points" on which you
disagree with your new church. What are they, and do you feel that you're able
to be part of it despite those disagreements?

A: Perfect
church unity is a myth, like Shambhala. You know all those stories of hopeful
explorers traipsing up and down the Himalayas, hoping to discover the lost
city? Finding Shambhala isn’t the point of the story. The point is that nobody
finds Shambhala—not now, not ever. We’ll
never find perfect concord in any group or organization. And we’re not supposed
to. The idea of church is to maintain peace in spite of disunity. That’s why I’ve
chosen not to focus on disunity. I want
to do my small part toward making my church a place of refuge and comfort.

Sure, I can
still be a part of it. In fact one of the reasons I’m thriving now is that I’m
learning the value, the intentional practice, of mouth control. Think of a
marriage or a domestic partnership.In
every working relationship, there are annoying habits, flaws and fissures.
These things piss us off and chip away at our peace of mind. Some of the pissy
things are big, and some just seem big.

In the long run, which helps you to be happier:
focusing on the pissy things that divide you, or focusing on the positive
things that unite you? It’s the same with church, or work, or the fiscal cliff.It’s not that you don’t see the flaws. But by
practicing a little mindfulness, you don’t have to see only the flaws.

Q: As a poet and memoirist, do you prefer one type of writing to the other, or
are there things about each genre that you especially enjoy or find
challenging?

A: I love
both forms, but I’m not gonna stop with two!

Q: What are you working on now?

A: A novel.
And a grammar textbook.

Q: Anything else we should know?

A: Yes.
People seriously underestimate the pleasures of taking their seventy-five-year-old
mother on a Caribbean cruise. Let’s say
that you are aboard ship, sitting down to dinner with twelve strangers. Who
knew that a mother breaks ice like the Titanic? Within fourteen seconds she’ll
have the whole table talking about nudity in airports.

About Me

Author, THE PRESIDENT AND ME: GEORGE WASHINGTON AND THE MAGIC HAT, new children's book (Schiffer, 2016). Co-author, with Marvin Kalb, of HAUNTING LEGACY: VIETNAM AND THE AMERICAN PRESIDENCY FROM FORD TO OBAMA (Brookings Institution Press, 2011).